


Makoto's Gloomy Sunday

by InterstellarVagabond



Series: Cry at Despair in the Name of Hope [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Multi, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Suicide Attempt, post Future Arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:47:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22251328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterstellarVagabond/pseuds/InterstellarVagabond
Summary: "You're the only one who has watched that video and lived." Kyoko stood and fell into a thoughtful pose. "As far as we know anyway. There could be lingering effects, psychological damage.""I just wanted to get it right this time and join everyone else like I was supposed to so long ago.""What?" Kyoko whipped around, eyes wide with surprise. Makoto was staring blankly ahead, hands resting loose on the blankets."There's no way someone like me could have survived that killing game," he murmured. "It just isn't right… I have to make it right… be with everyone else."Following the Future Foundation's killing game, Makoto finds himself losing time, waking up to a battered body and concerned partners telling him he attempted to take his own life, even seeing and hearing strange things that aren't there. Has the stress finally gotten to him? Or does Junko Enoshima still have him in her manicured clutches, even from beyond the grave?
Relationships: Fukawa Touko/Naegi Komaru, Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito, Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto/Togami Byakuya
Series: Cry at Despair in the Name of Hope [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862452
Comments: 29
Kudos: 384





	1. Opening Scene

**Author's Note:**

> obviously a heavy topic fic so mind the warnings and watch out for yourself! Comments are highly appreciated and absolutely motivate me to update more frequently because I am a creature of validation

_ Why us? Why not you? You're nothing special, how is the world better with you in it? _

Makoto fell to his knees, hands gripping at either shoulder to hold himself tight. The corpses were advancing on him, step by bloody step.

_ You told us we'd be friends that _

_ You'd protect me/we'd all get out alive/we were friends/I should have hope _

They were all talking at once, and the voices rung in his ears like a hundred sirens.

"I'm sorry!" He whimpered. "I'm so so sorry! You're right! It should have been me. It should have been me!"

Then he was gasping and sitting upright in bed, pajamas damp with sweat and heart pounding.

He took a moment to slow his breath, one hand clutching at his chest where the pain was worst. The bed was empty aside from him, Kyoko and Byakuya were probably still working. 

The housing the Future Foundation had given them was nice, though maybe not by Byakuya's standards. Still it had multiple offices so both his workaholics could focus privately. The nice digs must have been an apology, or a bribe, for what had happened. Not that there was much in the way of leadership needing protecting right now, the Foundation was in shambles and only a few people, like Kyoko and Byakuya, were bothering to clean it all up.

Makoto slid out of bed, and headed downstairs. He'd get some water and sit up for awhile until he felt like he could sleep again. 

Downstairs in the kitchen he braced himself against the counter.

"I'm sure it's just… nerves," he tried to convince himself. "Nothing to worry about."

He got himself a glass of water, and the faucet proved a bit leaky and continued to drip as he turned it off. 

He stood there listening to the continuous drip of the water, eyes drifting over the room around him. They came to rest on the knife rack, and he felt his heart pick up pace again.

His fingers twitched at the sight of gleaming metal, and he lifted one hand to his mouth and bit into the soft bit of skin between his thumb and forefinger. 

"I want to check these against your work."

Byakuya looked up from his computer to where Kyoko was standing in the doorway.

"Afraid you've made some serious flaws?" He replied, but as always she didn't take the bait. 

She peered at his screen, tablet in hand and one arm crossed across her middle. 

Suddenly there was a clattering sound from downstairs, that caused them both to jump and flinch.

"Makoto?" Kyoko asked.

"Should be asleep." Byakuya adjusted his glasses. "Could be an intruder."

Kyoko nodded seriously, and they both hurried to the hallway.

At the bottom of the stairs they heard a pained grunt, and a stab of worry hit them both. 

Kyoko rounded the corner first, eyes widening at the scene. "Makoto!"

He was kneeling on the kitchen floor, sleeves rolled up to reveal several bloody cuts across his arms. There was a shattered glass on the floor, and Makoto had a kitchen knife clutched in both hands, the tip aimed at his chest. 

"What the hell are you doing?" Byakuya shouted. Kyoko was already trying to pull the knife out of his hands.

Makoto fought her, tears streaming from his eyes and a smile plastered over his face that faded once her hands touched his. He screamed like a wounded animal, and tried to bury the knife in his chest.

"What's wrong with him? Stop him!" Byakuya commanded.

"I'm trying!" Kyoko snapped. 

"Not hard enough!" Byakuya grabbed Makoto's wrists and held tight. "Take him out. Now."

Kyoko bit her lip, and then wrapped an arm around Makoto's throat. She held tight, wincing at the choked sounds Makoto made, until he went limp in her arms.

She let go, Makoto slumped unconscious against her and the knife clattered to the floor.

"What the hell was that?" Byakuya asked the second they'd both recovered.

"I don't know," Kyoko answered tensely. "Give me a minute to find out."

"I don't think we really need a detective to find out what he  _ did. _ " Byakuya snapped, but his face turned regretful. "Sorry. I'm just… confused and concerned."

"I know." Kyoko sighed, neither of them was very good at processing emotion. That was Makoto's strong suit, which was one reason this was so strange and upsetting.

"I'm calling in my private physician." Byakuya stood and pulled his phone from his jacket pocket. "We'll want to make sure he isn't… permanently damaged."

Kyoko nodded. She was trying to keep her gaze and her touches analytical and probing. She was trying to find some clue as to what caused this breakdown, but she couldn't help but stroke Makoto's hair for no other reason than it brought her comfort and she hoped it comforted him too. 

After the phone call, Byakuya actually carried Makoto to his bed, a display of compassion and physical labor not normally characteristic of him. Kyoko rested her curled hand against her chin and thought about how much Makoto had changed the pair of them. 

So what could have changed Makoto?

  
  


When he woke up his head was pounding, and some sort of twisted music was ringing in his ears. He opened his eyes and winced at flashes of blue and red before his vision cleared.

He pressed his hands down over his ears to try and block the music out, but after a moment someone pulled his hands away.

"Makoto?"

"Kyoko?" He sat up in bed and his surroundings came back to him. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, still holding one of his hands, and staring at him. He was reminded of another time he'd woken up and seen her at his bedside, though that time had been far less pleasant and involved a little more peril.

"How are you feeling?" She asked evenly, letting go of his hand.

"Uh…" he pressed a hand to his forehead. "Is it okay to say I'm not sure? What happened?"

"You don't remember?"

"We… were watching a movie, right?" He asked with a weak smile.

She sighed. "No. Try and remember. It's important."

"I just remember not being able to sleep, and then a movie… we didn't watch a movie?" He moved slightly and winced at the pain rippling up his arms and pulsing at his neck. "A-ah… ow!" He looked at his bandaged arms with shock and alarm. "What… happened?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out." Kyoko took a shaky breath and forced herself into calm. "Makoto. Last night you tried to take your own life. I need you to remember whatever you can, so we can make sure you're safe."

"I… no, why would I do that?" Makoto shook his head with a frown.

"Why couldn't you sleep last night?" Kyoko folded her arms about her waist.

"I had a nightmare…" Makoto looked down. "I just went to get a glass of water, I needed to walk around and clear my head for a bit."

"What was the nightmare about?"

"It's not important," Makoto insisted with a nervous laugh.

"It might be very important." 

Makoto remained silent, and Kyoko reached again for his hand.

"You can trust me," she said. "I want to protect you, I need you to be honest."

"I do trust you, it's not about that," Makoto gave a small grin which quickly faded. "It's just… it was about everyone else. You know… who didn't make it. From that first time…"

"I see."

"I think I had that nightmare twice," Makoto admitted. "And… you were there too. It was everyone I didn't protect well enough…"

"I'm right here." Kyoko squeezed his hand. "You didn't have to protect me, and it wouldn't have been your fault even if I wasn't here now."

The reminder of the killing game just a month or so ago now sparked another memory, a secondhand account of how Makoto and the others had gotten to the bottom of the killing game's origins.

"This has happened before," she mused aloud. "When you watched Junko's brainwashing video. Right?"

Makoto's eyes went wide, and then somewhat distant.

" _ Monokuma's Gloomy Sunday _ ," he corrected her. "It was just like that weird video that would play whenever the monitors weren't giving the morning and nighttime announcements. You remember, right? How if you turned on a monitor it would play a  _ Monokuma Theater _ ?"

She did remember. It was a discovery they made as a group when searching the school for answers. Not many people continued to watch it after finding out that there was a broadcast besides the announcements, but others were so bored they'd even take Monokuma's rambling as entertainment. She'd once found Mondo watching it in one of the classrooms, a few days before he killed Chihiro.

"Is that the movie you're remembering from last night? Did you somehow find it again and watch it?" 

"No… there's no way I'd have access to it!" he insisted. "But… I feel like I've just watched it anyway…"

"You're the only one who has watched that video and lived." Kyoko stood and fell into a thoughtful pose. "As far as we know anyway. There could be lingering effects, psychological damage."

"I just wanted to get it right this time and join everyone else like I was supposed to so long ago."

"What?" Kyoko whipped around, eyes wide with surprise. Makoto was staring blankly ahead, hands resting loose on the blankets.

"There's no way someone like me could have survived that killing game," he murmured. "It just isn't right… I have to make it right… be with everyone else."

"Makoto…" Kyoko was stunned, she couldn't believe what she was hearing. 

Makoto's fingers curled in the blankets, and then his eyes seemed to refocus a bit as he shook his head. "You think so? It would make sense."

Kyoko realized he was referring to her earlier statement, as if he'd never spoken to her about his necessary suicide at all. 

Just then the door opened, and Byakuya walked in. When he noticed Makoto he smiled.

“Good. You’re awake.” He walked over to stand by Kyoko. “So, you mind telling us what all that was?”

“Wow, you have worse bedside manner than Kyoko, that’s surprising,” Makoto joked.

“I can pay people to be nice for me.” Byakuya shot back. “And also, you worried us. An explanation would go a long way to put the both of us at ease.”

“I’m sorry to worry you…” Makoto frowned. 

“Even now, he’s apologizing like a puppy,” Byakuya sighed fondly. “Try to act more like a patient. Complain and demand something.”

“But that just sounds like you,” Kyoko said, raising a hand to cover her smile. 

Makoto laughed, and both of them turned to face him, feeling as though they were soaking in his joy. Thinking about what they could have lost, they both wordlessly crawled into bed on either side of Makoto and wrapped their arms around him. 

Makoto gave a small surprised gasp, and then melted into the embrace.

“We’ll find out how to fix this,” Byakuya said with confidence. “I highly doubt there is an issue that Kyoko and I cannot solve. And also you I suppose.”

Makoto just rolled his eyes and enjoyed the hug.


	2. Final Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, researching horror movie terms for a chapter title: oh god I need to start a band just so I can call it Video Nasty
> 
> Makoto becoming the headmaster had big bad "and then they grow up and get het married and have kids" Harry Potter type vibes and I wasn't a huge fan as you can probably tell by my small changes here

“I don’t like this.”

“It’s going to be okay!” Makoto gave them his most winning smile. He believed there was no problem you couldn’t solve by talking and that included the problem of his protective partners. “It’s just for a few days, and it’s important!”

“What do they even need you for right now, the academy isn’t even fully rebuilt.” Byakuya adjusted his glasses, a little irritated tic. 

“I agree,” Kyoko added. “You shouldn’t be taking long unsupervised trips until this issue has been resolved.”

“Nothing’s happened for two weeks now, I think it was just a fluke.” Makoto couldn’t help but pause in packing to rub his arm as he mentioned it. Kyoko hid scars with her gloves, he’d never thought he’d have scars of his own but now he wore his jacket whenever he was around the other two. 

They were healing, and like he said nothing strange had happened since that first gap in his memory. So when Hope’s Peak called and asked for the new headmaster’s seal of approval on a few things here and there, he felt safe saying yes. 

The headmaster thing still felt so weird. He’d taken it on a temporary basis, he was barely twenty-one, his last job had been at a food stand! Still, he felt it was important for the children of The Tragedy to get back to normal life as soon as possible, and that opening Hope’s Peak as a school not just for ultimates, but for anyone wanting to cultivate a talent of their own, would help pave the path towards that. He’d stepped up to fill that role until someone else could be found, and he really hoped that he could move to teaching after that. It would feel better to work his way up to the top instead of starting there, in his nervous and humble opinion. 

“Well… make sure you bring your medication, and call us regularly,” Byakuya conceded. 

“We could still come with you,” Kyoko said.

“You’ve got important work to finish here.” Makoto smiled at them, pressing a kiss to their respective cheeks. “I’ll be fine. And you two say I’m the emotional one.”

Kyoko and Byakuya shared a displeased look as Makoto teased. 

He zipped up his suitcase, ending the argument with his final decision. 

Byakuya still had to have the last word though.

“If only he still worked for the Future Foundation, we could just order him not to.”

Kyoko, as always, one-upped him. 

“Well… with his temperament we probably still could.”

Makoto blushed furiously and pretended he wasn’t listening.

It was strange to walk down the old halls and see them look so similar and yet so new. 

Especially considering his memory was still a bit muddled when it came to his time here. That was the case with everyone in his class, getting bits and pieces back now and then, vague feelings. It hit some harder than others, like when Hina would suddenly remember a school memory with Sakura. Or even worse, when she didn’t. 

The black and white theme seemed to have prevailed, a bit in poor taste but classic nonetheless. 

The scenery was almost all Makoto could take in, he’d underestimated how much being back here would affect him. The head of the planning committee was talking to him and he was only hearing every other word. When the day ended, Makoto could barely remember the conversations he’d had. 

The surrounding area was still a mess, no viable hotels for a bit, so he was staying in the dorms. As he set his suitcase down by the bed, he gave the bathroom door a wide berth. He frowned, he couldn’t exactly avoid it forever, but… 

He forced himself to put his hand on the doorknob, then to turn it. He closed his eyes as he entered, and when he opened them there was a normal untouched bathroom in front of him. 

He let out the breath he’d been holding, and turned to leave. It was as he did that he caught a glimpse of something in the mirror that made his heart pound. 

For a split second he thought he saw her, standing there with the knife still in her stomach. 

He slammed the bathroom door shut behind him and moved to the far end of the room, where he slid down against the wall to the floor. He curled in on himself, trying to steady his breath. 

“It’s just… a bad memory,” he told himself. “The meds haven’t kicked in yet… and you’re just seeing a bad memory. A few weeks from now, they’ll have built up in my system and I’ll only see what’s really there.”

He stood up and faced the bathroom door, still in a cold sweat. He swallowed his panic and started getting ready for bed, even as his hands shook. 

“I’m sorry, Sayaka…” He whispered as he opened his suitcase. 

“I forgive you, Makoto.”

His blood ran cold at the sing-songy voice that answered him, right next to his ear. He didn’t want to turn around, but he did anyway.

Sayaka stood behind him, knife in her stomach and blood drenched. She held the gold painted sword loosely in one hand. 

“It’s not your fault,” she said, choking on a mouthful of blood. “If only I’d managed to kill him… then you would have died like you were supposed to and I’d be alive.”

Makoto made a strangled sound of fear, unable to really scream. He watched in horror as Sayaka slowly pulled the knife from her gut and pointed it at him. 

“You can still make it up to me!” she said, voice as playful as a girl trying to tease a boy into asking her out.

Makoto felt that same twitch in his hands, and Sayaka took one shambling step forward. 

Makoto bolted for the door, running out in the dorm hallway. His breath was ragged and tinged with the sound of fear as he tried to escape. He ran for the door to the class building, and stopped in his tracks when he saw Sayaka waiting for him there. 

She giggled, trailing a hand through the blood on her torso and pressing it to the wall to leave a handprint behind. Makoto took a step backwards, and Sayaka just kept giggling.

“Ahahaha!” she laughed. “Haha…”

“Stay away!” he begged. “I’m sorry I… I can’t! I didn’t mean to… I tried to make you feel safe!”

“Hahahaha,” Sayaka laughed into the palm of her hand. 

“Please… I’m sorry,” Makoto said, sinking to his knees. 

“Puhuhuhu…” 

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and when he raised his head his face was inches away from the last headmaster of Hope’s Peak Academy.

“Jeez, kid, what’s eating you?” Monokuma laughed. “So your ex is dead, whatever! Pop stars are soooooo yesterday. You should kill yourself a rich boy and get the inheritance, am I right?”

Makoto tried to move away but found himself stuck in place.

“Better kill Miss Nosey too, or she’ll sniff out the blood on your hands,” Monokuma said, examining his claws. “Well, I’m surprised she hasn’t already! There’s just so much of it!”

Makoto lifted his hands and stared in horror at the blood dripping from them. 

Then everything went dark.

  
  


Kyoko’s cellphone rang somewhere around two am, just as she’d finally gotten to sleep. She sighed and grabbed it from the nightstand, sure it had to be important to call this late.

“Yes?”

“K-Kyoko?”

She sat upright immediately. “Makoto, what’s wrong?”

Makoto was sitting against the wall, the same wall he’d sat down against after leaving the bathroom. The same wall he’d never left, never gotten up from to get ready for bed, never got chased by Sayaka from.

The wall that was covered in blood from the back of his head, from when he’d slammed it repeatedly back until he’d knocked himself out. 

“I…” Makoto choked on the simple word, remembering Monokuma’s words. He was dizzy and his mind kept wandering to the horrible thought of him ever hurting them. 

“Do you need us to come get you?” 

“Yeah… maybe a doctor too? I’m the only one here…”

“Doctor? What happened?”

Makoto felt the will to keep talking drain out of him, along with any energy he’d mustered. 

“It’s nothing…” he said, before hanging up and tossing the phone aside. 

Kyoko and Byakuya didn’t often share a bed when Makoto wasn’t there, so she had to go to his room to wake him. His annoyance vanished the second he saw her face, and that she’d forgotten to put her gloves on in her haste. He quickly grabbed a pair of his own from the top drawer and offered them to her. 

“It’s Makoto, we have to go,” she explained, sliding them on. 

“What happened?”

“He wouldn’t tell me, he said he needed a doctor and then he told me not to worry and hung up.”

Byakuya felt a chill, and his stomach twisted with concern. “We’ll take the helicopter.”

  
  


He was still unconscious when they arrived, sitting with his head hanging and the wall a bloody mess behind him.

For one sickening moment they both paused and waited to hear it. 

_ A body has been discovered! _

Kyoko moved first, placing a hand on his chest and feeling him breathing. In their panic they’d just rushed over, not thinking to call emergency services to come and find him, so in a terrifying repeat of the last time Kyoko found herself doing what she could as Byakuya called for help.

It was a very long night.

“Hey… hey! Wake up!”

Makoto blearily opened his eyes.

Monokuma was standing on his chest, and that was normal. So was the music all swirling and playing in reverse. 

Monokuma flashed a light into his eyes. “Dr. Monokuma on the case! Follow the light with your eyes, Makoto!”

Makoto did as he was told, and Monokuma laughed. 

“Well, I’ve diagnosed ya pretty good!” he said, nose twitching. “You got a cause of batshit brain! You’re nuts, kiddo! Too bad! Oh, and you’ve got all the kinds of cancer too, I swear on my doctor degree!”

Makoto giggled, because it was funny. He was going to die? Oh well. He’d lived through two killing games and was going to die from being sick? Life and death were so funny.

“Why don’t you just get it over with, make it quick, right?” Monokuma beckoned, and then pointed at a scalpel just within reach. “No reason why you gotta suffer. Well, unless you’re into that sorta thing, puhuhuhu.”

Makoto sat up slowly in bed and reached for the blade, and before his fingers could even graze it a gloved hand grabbed his wrist.

He struggled against the hand, but it felt like he was moving through jello, everything was so heavy and tiring. 

“It’s identical to the deaths from the killing game,” Kyoko said, holding Makoto as he weakly tried to escape her. She’d left a blade in reach to see if Makoto would do what he’d just done, and she’d never been so unhappy to prove a theory correct. “He doesn’t seem aware of his surroundings at all, he’s just focused on a single command.”

“Kill yourself,” Byakuya supplied the command from where he was sitting with his arms crossed and his head down. The room seemed to get colder when he spoke.

“Precisely.” Kyoko pushed the rolling table away from Makoto’s bedside, and then increased the dosage Makoto had on IV. He calmed, and his eyes closed again.

“Should you be doing that?” Byakuya snapped. “Last time I checked you weren’t the Ultimate Doctor.”

“I know enough about medicine, he’ll be fine.” Kyoko rested her hand against her chin and looked thoughtfully out the window. 

“We don’t know anything about his current condition, and you’re letting him play with knives and doping him up after a head injury!” Byakuya stood, gesturing as he argued. 

“It’s necessary to help him.”

“It’s careless.”

Kyoko wouldn’t have known what to say next, but she didn’t have to, because the laptop they had sitting open on the table started to beep cheerfully.

“That should be them,” she said, and they both moved to answer the video call. 

“Hello? Is the signal okay?”

Hajime Hinata appeared on the screen, flanked on either side by Ryota Mitarai and Nagito Komaeda. 

There must have been other people around too, because there was a great deal of noise in the background. Hajime sighed.

“One sec,” he said apologetically, before turning around and shouting. “It doesn’t matter how it got on the boat, stop using the snake to scare Mikan! Is Gundham around? … Well then go get him!”

Nagito chuckled, earning a glare from Hajime as he turned back to face the camera. 

“You’re still traveling?” Kyoko asked. “Where are you right now?

“We really can’t tell you, I’m sorry,” Hajime said with a sad smile. “We trust you but… the less you know the better.”

“We understand,” Byakuya said. “But would you be able to come meet us?”

“We’re not exactly popular,” Nagito sighed, shrugging in a ‘what can you do?’ motion. “But if we can help, we should.”

“What exactly is going on?” Hajime asked. “And why did you ask for Mitarai?”

Ryota fidgeted nervously with his fingers. As he did, a large hand settled on his shoulder, and his duplicate stepped into the frame. 

“It’s alright,” the Imposter said. 

“We believe Makoto is suffering from lingering effects after watching Junko’s suicide video,” Kyoko said flatly. “We were wondering if we could rely on his expertise, maybe create a video to reset his mind.”

“Uh…” Ryota looked sick, his fidgeting increasing. “I don’t… I don’t do that anymore! I can’t just mess with people’s heads all the time! I’m sorry…”

The Imposter squeezed his shoulder gently, looking concerned. 

“If he won’t, then what about you?” Byakuya asked Hajime.

“You mean Izuru, right?” Hajime sighed, closing his eyes. When he opened them again nothing had changed except his expression, and yet it was clear that they were speaking to Izuru now.

Kyoko and Byakuya felt a faint glimmer of hope, if anyone could fix this it would be the Ultimate Ultimate. Izuru Kamukura had knowledge of everything, he would even be better than Mitarai. They waited anxiously for him to speak.

“No,” he said.

“Why not?” Byakuya shouted.

“The brain is a delicate thing,” Izuru said, voice calm and heavy. “Too much interference… it breaks.”

“Then we have to find another way,” Kyoko sighed.

“It’s simple,” Izuru said. “Hypnotism, brainwashing, suggestibility, in the end what causes them to work is that the person affected  _ believes _ it will work. All hypnotism is self hypnotism. Because Mitarai’s videos inspire such dread or joy, people lose themselves in them and allow themselves to be taken over. The same goes for Junko’s work.”

“What are you saying?” Byakuya asked.

“He needs to recognize that he is not brainwashed. Not so long as he decides not to be, with a strong enough will. In all honesty, the fact that he’s still effected leads me to believe that in some way he  _ wants _ to be.”

“Why would he want this?” Kyoko asked.

“How should I know?” Izuru responded. “I’m not him.”

“He must be in a great deal of pain,” Nagito said thoughtfully. “If he thinks he has to kill himself… he must be deep in despair…” he looked into the camera with determined eyes. “You have to fix that. Makoto is a symbol of hope for the whole world. If it gets out that even he can fall to despair, no one would have hope again. And... it would be a great personal loss to those he knows as well.”

Imposter nodded at Nagito, apparently approving of his more compassionate addition to an otherwise ideals based speech. 

“Well. This has been no help at all,” Byakuya sighed, and Izuru relinquished control back to Hajime. 

“I’m sorry,” Hajime said. “I wish we could do more.”

“You’ve already done a lot of favors for us,” Kyoko pointed out. “You’ve saved us once before.”

“And you saved us.” Hajime, and all the others around him smiled. “We’re the ones that owe you. If you think of anything we can do, call again. The signal might be bad in some areas, Kazuichi and Izuru can only do so much for the middle of the ocean.”

“Noted, and thank you.”

“Tell him I said hi?” Nagito asked, leaning closer to the camera with a slight wave as though Makoto could see him. Hajime rolled his eyes and elbowed him in the side. 

Kyoko found herself chuckling at that, but her frown reasserted itself after she hung up and faced the task set for them. 

Her and Byakuya were silent for a moment, her sitting in front of the computer and him standing behind her. He eventually broke the silence.

“He’s suicidal. Even without the video,” he said. 

“He might not be suicidal, it could just be that whatever is troubling him reacts badly with what the video already compelled him to do.”

“I don’t see how that’s much better.”

“We have a place to start, at least,” Kyoko said. “That’s more than we had this morning.”

Byakuya nodded. “... listen. About earlier.” he sighed, looking uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. I know I can be a bit… abrasive… especially when I’m worried.”

“And I can be cold,” Kyoko said, turning to face him. “And neither of us blames the other for that, right?”

“Right.” Byakuya smiled. “Well, I think I’m going to try whatever lukewarm beverage they’re passing off as coffee in that vending machine down the hall. Would you like one?”

“Yes please.”

Before Byakuya left Kyoko cleared her throat. 

“And thank you… for the gloves,” she said. 

Byakuya shrugged. “Of course.”


	3. Runaway Production

Makoto was still asleep when his sister arrived, tailed by Toko. Hina and Yasuhiro had come too, but they were already pushing the guest limit so they had to stay in the waiting room. 

Komaru and Toko seemed to have no trouble making the noise of four people anyway.

Trusting Makoto to his sister, Kyoko took a seat in the corner of the room and rested for a moment. She couldn’t afford to sleep, but her mind would falter if she didn’t at least have a moment of calm to regain her energy. 

She must have fallen asleep, because suddenly Komaru was waking her.

“Hey, we’re going to head out,” she said. “He’s been awake for a bit, seems like he’s doing better.”

Kyoko thanked her, rubbing her eyes and stretching. Makoto was sitting up in bed, laughing at something Toko had said, but when he saw Kyoko his face turned somehow relieved and guilty. 

“O-oh, I see,” Toko huffed. “Now that she’s awake, you don’t want to talk to me anymore, huh?” 

“What? No!” Makoto said, as his sister took Toko by the arm and started leading her for the door.

“C’mon, Toko,” she laughed. 

The door closed behind them, and Kyoko looked at Makoto. “How are you feeling?”

“Uhm… pretty rough honestly…” he answered. “I’m glad you came for me…”

Kyoko nodded wordlessly, and Makoto looked down at his hands. 

“I’m… so sorry,” he said, raising his hands to his eyes. 

“Why are you apologizing?” she asked.

“It was stupid of me to go alone, you were right, and I messed up and worried you…”

“You didn’t mess up,” she said, crossing her arms and squeezing them tightly so her hands wouldn’t shake. 

“None of this would be happening if I’d just found another way to solve the puzzle of the killing game, if I hadn’t watched it…” 

“You did the best thing you could, you needed answers to stop the killing.”

“Maybe my luck has just run out, huh?” he said, a weak smile on his face and tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “Not that I had much luck to begin with.”

Kyoko didn’t know what to say, so she stayed quiet. Makoto grew more nervous in the space of her silence and leaned back against his pillows. 

Byakuya came back into the room and saw his partners sitting in tense silence, then sighed. 

“And where is all that hope you’re always talking so much about?” he asked Makoto. “I expected your relentless positivity to remain unaffected.”

“Yeah… right.” Makoto rubbed his arm, forcing a smile. 

“Now that everyones here…” Byakuya grabbed a chair and pulled it up to the bed, sitting down. “We should talk.”

“Oh?” Makoto asked nervously. 

“Makoto, we need you to be honest with us,” Kyoko said. “Are you currently suicidal?”

“What?” Makoto gaped. “No! Of course not! Do you think I’m doing this on purpose?”

“I don’t think anything yet, all we have is what we know.” she pushed her hair behind her ear and tried not to let the emotion in Makoto’s voice throw her objectivity. “Is there any stress you’re going through, emotionally or mentally?”

Makoto looked at her, and she winced. 

“Besides this,” she specified. 

“What’s going on?”

“Kamukura seems to think that the cause of your self destructive behavior is some sort of repressed trauma,” Byakuya explained. “He told us that it’s a matter of will, that if you resolve the issue then the trouble will stop.”

“Wait…” Makoto took a shaky breath. “So… you’re saying you think I want this?”

“No,” Kyoko tried to reassure him with a hand on his arm. “We’re just trying to find the logical solution.”

“The logical solution?” Makoto pulled away, voice cracking. “Guys, I’m  _ scared _ , and I’m trying to stay positive, but if this whole thing is just… me… what the hell do I do with that?”

“But it’s not you.” Kyoko leaned down and met his gaze. “The things you’ve gone through can leave a mark on you, but that doesn’t make them you.”

“You two have been there for nearly everything I have.” Makoto turned to lay on his side. “And I’m the only one breaking down. What does that say about me?”

The other two shared a look, and after a moment Makoto sat back up. 

“You guys have been working hard to take care of me, right? You look tired. You should go get some rest, I’ll be fine here.”

“You realize how concerning you trying to get rid of us sounds, right?” Byakuya pointed out.

“Well, I’m surrounded by doctors and nurses, and you always expect the worst,” Makoto pointed out with a snort, then his face softened. “I’m just worried and… I feel bad that I’ve been the cause of all this. I promise to… think about what the source is, okay?”

“... alright,” Kyoko conceded. “But we’re just going to go sit outside, okay?”

“Maybe you will, I actually have the power and money to rent a room and sleep in a real bed,” Byakuya said.

Makoto smiled, somehow despite all the changing they’d all did, some things would always stay the same. Kyoko and Byakuya bickering and sniping at each other was one of them.

They left Makoto to give him some time to think, and found some chairs in the hall. 

Kyoko unconsciously fell against Byakua’s side with a sigh. He raised an eyebrow, before putting an arm around her shoulders. 

“What happened to getting a room?” she asked, after they’d spent a few minutes that way.

“And leave you two alone? Last time that happened you ended up in a killing game.” Byakuya leaned back and closed his eyes. “If I’m not here you’ll go running off to solve a mystery and fall down a trash chute.”

“You know I didn’t… fall down the trash chute, right? I went down there on purpose to find Makoto.”

“I’m told you looked cute with noodles in your hair.”

Kyoko chuckled, probably for the first time in awhile.

  
  


Makoto tried to think, but it was hard to consider the weight of his feelings.

This situation wasn’t a group effort, he couldn’t exactly give a pep talk and work things out. Well, he could have a deep honest talk with his partners, but he’d rather not. Of course, the one time he didn’t want to talk and hope and feel out the problem, it’s because the problem was him.

“Huh. I guess I’m that kinda person, huh?” he said to himself. He wished he had someone else to talk to, someone outside the problem. Or, honestly, someone who had a problem he actually could fix. 

His mind decided to supply him with both. 

“How hopeless, tsk.”

Makoto was almost used to this now, so he didn’t startle when a figure stepped into view. Tall and thin, with a chain dangling from his neck, a familiar face from an unfamiliar time. He’s told this is what Nagito Komaeda looked like when he was a remnant, spending his days bullying his little sister.

“Yeah, just about,” Makoto sighed. “You’re… not going to try and make me kill myself, are you?”

“Am I?” The servant asked, tilting his head to the side and watching Makoto with narrowing eyes. 

“Uh…” Makoto didn’t really have an answer for something so needlessly cryptic. 

“This really is such a despair drenched situation,” the servant perched himself on the rail at the end of the bed, like some sort of cat. “The Ultimate Hope, lost to despair. Hm. Were you even trying?”

Makoto decided maybe he shouldn’t humor his hallucinations, especially the ones trying to gaslight him. 

“I mean with me, well, I never stood a chance,” the servant sighed. “I’m nobody. No one important. Then again though… so are you, aren’t you? I mean, we got into the academy the same way, right? You can call yourself the Ultimate Hope all you like but that doesn’t give you talent.”

“I… don’t really call myself that,” Makoto said.

“Oh, but you do!” the servant grinned, eyes bright. “In your head, where no one can hear. You think ‘this is what I’m good at, this is what makes me worth it.’ And if you don’t inspire hope in people then what good are you, right?”

“I…”

“Especially next to Byakuya and Kyoko,” the servant cut him off, lifting the hand that wasn’t hidden by a mitten and examining his nails. “With their talent they can change the world, and they do! They’re working to make this world better, while you fall to pieces.”

“But…”

“Did you ever think that you would fall to despair?” the servant climbed into the bed and sat cross legged at Makoto’s feet. “I never did. Well… you gotta hand it to her, Junko knows her stuff.” he waggled his mittened hand and cackled at his little joke. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Makoto agreed. “Junko. She did this. She knows how to… make people do things.”

“Right! Exactly!” the servant agreed cheerfully. “Your weak will, her despair, all to blame.”

“How did you do it?” Makoto mused. “Recover from despair… build a life and move on?”

“ _ I _ didn’t,” the servant said. “You’ve got me confused for someone else. You think I’m just a shadow of the past, proof that despair can be beaten. You’re wrong. Despair cannot be beaten, and I am not the proof. I’m not Nagito Komaeda.”

Makoto blinked, and the servant was no longer sitting at the end of his bed. Instead he was facing himself. 

“I’m not the past, I’m your future,” he said. “You know, when you give up on this. It’s okay, everyone will understand. You did your best, you saved everyone who mattered or at least everyone you could.”

“What if there’s still more I need to do?” Makoto asked. “People I need to help?”

“Are you helping anyone now like this?” The other Makoto laughed, gesturing to his bedridden doppelganger. “You’re a burden, an annoyance, and your time is up. You said it yourself, remember? Who are you to survive what all those talented and wonderful people didn’t? Sorry, I really am, but you’ve hit your expiration date.”

It was easy to block out the servant, but impossible to ignore his own voice. Was it even possible for him to lie to himself?

“And remember what Kyoko said,” the other Makoto continued. “The things you’ve done leave a mark on you, they can all see it. You’re weak, and you’re hurting, but you’re hope to so many people! I don’t think you can do both at once. If you stop now… now while you’re ahead, then no one has to see you fail. No one has to see you fall to despair.”

“I’d have to be… careful,” Makoto whispered. “Cut things off where no one would find me.”

“If Byakuya and Kyoko didn’t have to worry about you anymore, they’d be so happy!” the other Makoto beamed. 

“It would help them focus on the stuff they really want to do.”

“Let them rest!”

“Get rid of another reminder of what they’ve gone through.”

“They wouldn’t have to babysit us all the time.”

“Or take the blame for my decisions.”

Makoto was busy the entire time he spoke with himself. Pulling out his IV, finding his clothes folded in the closet, looking out the window to see what shot he had. His other self nodded at him with a smile. 

“Not too high up, if we hung from that ledge we’d be fine,” he said. 

Makoto struggled with the window lock, and then slide the window open. He looked back over his shoulder at the door, but there was no last minute save coming to stop him. Maybe he was a talentless nobody, but he still had luck on his side. 

“Let’s go, okay?” the other Makoto urged him on, and as Makoto climbed out the window he was gone.

  
  


“I don’t care, if local law enforcement gets in the way then take them out of the picture, what do I pay you for it not to figure these things out for yourself?” Byakuya shouted, pausing to pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh. “And let me specify, since you seem incapable of doing anything besides what you’re explicitly told. I don’t mean kill them. Just get it done and  _ find him _ .”

“Y-yes sir!” the man in the suit and sunglasses that Byakuya was terrorizing bowed and then turned to flee the scene. 

Kyoko was by the window, studying every inch of the room for something else, some other clue. Byakuya glared at the remaining hospital staff and police officers still in the room, and they quickly found somewhere else to be. 

“This was stupid of us,” he said. “We acknowledged he was up to something, and we gave him the opportunity anyway.”

“We trusted him.” Kyoko placed a hand on the window pane. “Seems our trust was misplaced.”

“He’s sick, Kyoko, not a criminal mastermind,” Byakuya reminded her. “He didn’t betray our trust, we just weren’t careful enough.”

“Regardless, now we must find him.”

“We should find his trail, get moving before he gets too far away,” Byakuya said. 

“I haven’t finished here.”

“What more is there to find? He climbed out the window. No need to dust for fingerprints.”

“I need… I need to know everything,” Kyoko said, voice starting to shake. 

Byakuya’s eyes widened, and he fell out of his angry posture. He watched Kyoko kneel down to examine some part of the floor, and he knew she was looking for clues that weren’t there. 

“There are some mysteries even a detective cannot solve,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder and guiding her back up. 

“I don’t…” she groaned and sat on the edge of the bed, resting her forehead against one hand. “I don’t understand people. I understand logic, clues, I turn to those to find the motivation but this… this isn’t him. This isn’t what I know of him. I can’t predict his movements anymore, I’m scared.”

Byakuya sat next to her. “Yeah. Me too.”

“It’s the same for you, right?” she asked. “People were difficult, and he was impossibly optimistic and determined. My hope… and I lost it.”

“If he could hear you now…” Byakuya said. “You know he saves those hope speeches for when things are at their worst. There’s no better time for hope, right?”

“I know we’ll find him,” Kyoko said, clenching her fists. “I just… worry about how we’ll find him.”

“Hopefully… alive.” Byakuya frowned, considering the alternative.

“Even then, what kind of life is he going to have?” she said. “If we can’t fix this, if it’s just this forever… us watching him every minute of the day and him alternating between hating himself for it and then losing himself…”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, for now we focus on what’s right in front of us. The next clue. Right?”

“Yes.” she took a deep breath. “I can’t afford to be emotional right now.”

“I’m not entirely sure that’s healthy but it’s hardly the time to argue about it,” Byakuya said. “So I’m coming back to that tangent later.”

She smiled, and kissed his cheek. 

  
  


Makoto was walking through a forest, his hood pulled up over his head. 

Were his hood down a passerby would be able to see old bloodied bandages, and bloodshot eyes with dark circles. 

He wasn’t exactly taking care of himself, because there was really no point in investing in a body that was just going to die soon anyway. Besides, now that he’d grown gaunt and pale he was less recognizable. A shadow of himself. 

At first that had come in handy for hitchhiking but eventually he got too thin and sick for any responsible driver to ignore. So now he was walking, still trying to get as far as he could from people who knew him. This forest looked like a safe bet, if he just walked far enough in he could disappear forever. 

His foot caught on a branch and he stumbled, falling and hitting the ground hard. He tried to push himself back to his feet, but his arms shook and gave out. He rolled over and laid on his back, staring up at the sky. 

He remembered something he’d read once about the members of Ultimate Despair.

_ Their motivations were beyond understanding. Dedicating their lives to Junko Enoshima, and to despair, they would not only pave paths of violence through the world but also abuse their own bodies. They starved themselves, deprived themselves of sleep, maimed themselves, and even replaced parts of their bodies with that of the corpse supposedly belonging to Junko Enoshima. _

“I’m… despair now…” he murmured, fingers curling in the fallen leaves and dirt. 

His vision started to grow dim, but for a moment as his eyelids started fluttering shut, he swore he saw someone standing over him.


	4. Family, Found

Makoto woke up somewhere soft and warm, and the first thing he noticed was the lack of pain throbbing in his head. 

Then he realized he was alive. 

He sat up quickly, eyes wide, trying to figure out where he was. The room was unfamiliar, and rundown. The only things in the room were the bed he was lying in, and a table covered in what looked like salvaged medical supplies. 

The door at the far end of the room opened, and someone with their arms full of bandage rolls walked in. Makoto recognized her, right as she saw that he was sitting up in bed.

“Ah! You’re awake!” Mikan squealed, dropping the bandages. 

“Oh no, I didn’t mean to startle you!” Makoto apologized, getting out of bed and trying to help her pick up what she had dropped. 

“You shouldn’t be moving! Oh no, I made things worse!” she wailed, tears springing to her eyes. 

“It’s okay! I’ll lay back down!” Makoto said, trying to calm her down but only succeeded in getting about as worked up as she was. 

He had no idea how true his statement was until he felt a wave of dizziness hit him and fell to the side. He would have hit the floor if a strong arm hadn’t reached out and caught him.

“Careful.” Hajime helped Makoto back to bed. “If you die of politeness it will ruin all of mine and Mikan’s hard work.”

“Where am I?” Makoto asked. “What happened?”

“You’re at our current base of operations, not far from where you passed out,” Hajime explained. “And I found you and brought you back here a couple days ago. You were very lucky.”

“Oh.” Makoto looked down at his hands. Mikan left the bandages she’d picked up on the table with the other supplies and then left the room, peeking back curiously just once.

Hajime watched him, eyes sad and understanding. “Look… I told Kyoko and Byakuya that you were safe with us, but I didn’t tell them where we are. There’s no need for them to worry, but I figured you’d want some time to think about what you’re going to do.”

Makoto frowned, remembering his plan. It seemed so distant now, and it made his stomach sick to think about. He wondered what he should tell Hajime. 

Hajime watched Makoto’s face change with his thoughts, and grasp his arm tight enough to bruise. He carefully took Makoto’s hand and unclamped it before he could hurt himself. Makoto looked stunned, and Hajime decided he should say something.

“We know what you were trying to do,” he said. “It’s better if you’re just honest, no one’s going to scold you or judge you or anything. All of us here have been there, all we want is to help you heal. I won’t force you to talk, but don’t try to hide things.” A change came over Hajime’s face, and Makoto felt a much more stern aura coming from him as Izuru spoke. “We will know if you do. It’s more convenient if you don’t waste our time.” His face softened into a sheepish look as Hajime rubbed the back of his neck. “He means he wants to help, sorry. We’re working on people skills.”

“Heh…” Makoto laughed quietly. “First I hid you guys away so you could get better, now you’re hiding me away so I can get better…”

“How the tables turn.” Hajime smiled.

“I never thought they would,” Makoto laughed, and then he was crying. Hajime smiled sadly and patted his shoulder. 

  
  


“Hey! Hey Makoto!”

Makoto looked up from the breakfast he’d been pushing around on his plate. Nagito was walking towards him, waving and smiling. Makoto smiled back nervously as Nagito sat down across from him. 

“It’s good to see you up and about!” Nagito said. “I never doubted you’d recover quickly.”

Makoto nodded vaguely and looked about the cafeteria. It was an actual cafeteria, because the building the former remnants had taken residence in was actually an abandoned university building. Makoto hadn’t explored much of it yet, he spent most of his time in bed or getting poked and prodded and questioned by either Mikan, Hajime, or Izuru. He was recovering quickly though, and it seemed as though he wasn’t on any kind of suicide watch. Not the conventional kind anyway, he was secretly wondering if maybe they’d assigned Nagito to watch him, considering how clingy he was.

“Are you feeling much better?” Nagito asked.

“A little,” Makoto said.

“I’m glad. Oh, you should eat.”

“You’re not really eating either,” Makoto pointed out, gesturing to Nagito’s one slice of plain toast and a coffee.

“Fair enough, but I’m not recovering from near death.” Nagito folded his hands in front of himself. “Not this time, anyway.”

“That’s… worrying to hear,” Makoto cleared his throat. 

“I get that a lot.” Nagito smiled serenely. “So, have you had any other attacks lately?”

“What?”

“Hallucinations? Depressive episodes?” Nagito asked, taking a bite of his toast, casual as discussing the weather. 

“N-no…”

“That’s good. I’m glad I can trust Hajime with your care after all.” Nagito seemed to be more teasing Hajime than obsessing over Makoto, but it was hard to tell.

“I… saw you at one point,” Makoto admitted. “Before I came here.”

“Ah, that makes sense.”

“It does?”

“Someone like me… I’m sure to haunt a few nightmares, I’m guilty of enough to cause that. Too many shadows in my past… someone like that can only be called a villain right?”

“But you’ve come so far!” Makoto argued, standing and leaning across the table. “All of you have! This community you’ve built is amazing! It’s like you never fell to despair at all!”

Nagito gave him a meaningful look and Makoto blushed and sat back down. 

“I think it’s because we’ve known despair that we’re able to live like this,” Nagito said. “I’ve been known to be a bit… obsessive with my ideals, so perhaps my perception is a bit biased, but regretful as our pasts were, we’ve learned from them. Learned not to dwell on them, but also to hold ourselves responsible. Hajime said we’d build ourselves a future, and atone for our pasts, and I think we actually have a chance at that.”

“If there’s a chance, at least one of us will make it then,” Makoto joked. 

“I’d bet on your luck over mine.” Nagito grinned.

“Hey, are you bothering my patient?”

Hajime approached the table, setting a hand on his hip and raising an eyebrow at Nagito. 

“Just a little!” Nagito laughed. 

“I can make him leave, you know,” Hajime said to Makoto.

“It’s okay, he’s not bothering me,” Makoto said quickly with a nervous smile. 

“See, now you’re the one freaking him out,” Nagito said, poking Hajime’s side. 

“Makoto, I was going to do some rounds, wanted to know if you’d like to come with,” Hajime said, jerking a thumb towards the door.

“He should finish eating first.”

“I know! I can wait.”

“You two are kind of like an old married couple, huh?” Makoto chuckled, feeling a little homesick.

“Eugh, don’t say that,” Hajime groaned.

“I can do much better than him,” Nagito said. “I just choose not to. I have so much pity for the reserve cour-”

Hajime lightly smacked the back of Nagito’s head, and kissed the smirk off him. A few tables away Hiyoko gagged and picked up her empty water bottle to throw at them.

“You guys are gross!” she shouted. “I’m trying to eat!”

Izuru caught the water bottle without even looking and dropped it to the floor. A second later Hajime groaned and picked it up, tossing it into the trash instead.

“I’ll… finish eating,” Makoto said, charmed but still not used to the chaos the former remnants lived in. 

  
  


“I’m telling you, dude, I’m a mechanic not a miracle worker,” Kazuichi groaned, tapping the generator with a wrench. “I need that part to get the lights on.”

“I’ll send Imposter into town and see what he can find,” Hajime said. 

“You guys just call him… imposter?” Makoto asked.

“He prefers his name be private, if he even has one,” Hajime said.

“What, you don’t know his name?” Kazuichi grinned. “Guess he likes me more than you.”

“You don’t know his name, shut up,” Hajime shot back.

"We used to call him Twogami, but then he stopped doing his Byakuya schtick," Kazuichi told Makoto.

"Yeah, Byakuya wasn't too thrilled to see it," Makoto laughed. He heard Byakuya's voice in his head, complaining about imperfect replicas and mockery and realized just how much he missed being with him and Kyoko.

Still. He hadn't decided yet.

"Oh, Giggles was asking after you again, just so you know," Kazuichi told Hajime, returning to gutting the generator.

"Oh boy," Hajime sighed.

"Giggles?"

"You'll see, it'll be a reunion." Hajime gestured for Makoto to follow.

Hajime insisted he wasn't a leader, but everywhere Makoto looked he was leading. He oversaw all the projects that were intended to make the old building more livable, he settled disputes, and people listened to him.

Almost all people anyway.

"Okay, how can I help you today, Munakata?" Hajime sighed.

"W-wha?" Makoto gaped 

Kyosuke Munakata was indeed right in front of Makoto's eyes, and apparently finishing a bit of bickering with Mahiru. She stormed away, nose in the air while he remained behind looking about as pissed as ever. When his eyes fell on Makoto, however, they widened in surprise.

"What the… well I guess I shouldn't be surprised to see you here."

"What are  _ you _ doing here?" Makoto gaped.

"I'm trying to negotiate with people barely old enough to drink," Munakata said, crossing his arms.

"He joined up with us awhile back," Hajime explained. "We don't turn away anyone who wants to atone. We ran into him fighting some of Junko's followers who were less interested in making amends."

"We should be fighting more of them," Munakata said. "We're putting in too much work to this place, it's falling apart and making it livable will take too long, we should be more mobile."

"This place is secluded and useful, we're all ready to bug out at a moment's notice and nothing's stopping us from sending out parties," Hajime said calmly. "We're focusing on right here right now. You can leave at any time if you rather be doing something else."

Munakata sighed, but didn't argue. He looked over at Makoto. "So, you're staying here too?"

"No, I mean…" Makoto stammered. "I'm just… visiting."

"... right," Munakata looked at him suspiciously, but didn't press the issue.

"If there's nothing else I can do…" Hajime waved and took a few slow steps backwards.

"Yes, I'll let you know if anything else comes up." Munakata nodded at the pair of them.

Once they were out of earshot Hajime spoke up again.

"That man is a little difficult," he said. "But he was important to Chisa Yukizome, and while I didn't know her very well I know she was a kind woman who fought to protect everyone here… and those who aren't here." Hajime looked a bit sad for a moment, and his hand slid into his pocket. Makoto would have no way of knowing that he was running his fingers over a small spaceship shaped hair clip.

"Yeah, he and I didn't really get along," Makoto said. "He tried to kill me once, but I can’t really blame him."

“Uh… okay,” Hajime said. “Whatever you say… Nagito.”

Makoto laughed sheepishly.

They walked for a bit until they were at one of the back entrances, a rare quiet place. Hajime stopped at the door and turned to Makoto.

"So, have you decided on your plans yet?"

"Not… yet, no." Makoto said. 

"You might want to," Hajime said. "You know you're welcome here but…"

"I know, there's lots of people waiting for me."

"Whatever you pick, I'll support it."

"Yeah."

"Makoto…"

Makoto met Hajime's mismatched eyes, and wondered what it felt like to be two people at once. He'd never thought that Izuru and Hajime would find a balance and make peace, and he was still in awe of it.

"You remember what I said, right?" He asked. "About the future?"

"Yes, of course!"

"Good." Hajime nodded, looking a bit concerned. "Well, you should probably check in with Mikan, I'll see you later."

"Ah, wait, Hajime!"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," Makoto said. 

Hajime smiled and nodded again.

When Imposter came back with supplies from the nearest town, Makoto went to help the others carry them inside. He grabbed a few bags from the back of the van, and when he turned around he squeaked in surprise at Mitarai's sudden appearance.

"I needed to talk to you!" He said, wringing his hands. "Maybe… maybe not here."

"Yeah, okay." Makoto nodded. "Just let me bring these inside."

Mitarai led Makoto back to his room, and walked over to a desk with a small pile of worn manga piled on it. He rested his hands on the desk and sighed. Makoto waited patiently for him to be ready, and looked around the room in the meanwhile.

Like the others, Mitarai had little to work with but had still managed to personalize the room. There was an old curling poster of a movie Makoto had never heard of taped to the wall, and the wall just next to it was half covered with sketches and storyboards.

"Are you still animating?" Makoto asked, pointing to the storyboards.

"Oh…" Mitarai straightened. "I don't really have the materials for that… but I guess I still enjoy it. I like drawing and telling a story, people around here are pretty cool about it… though they also really want me to draw them…"

He gestured to a paper covered in likenesses of his classmates. 

"Seems like your art makes people really happy."

"That's the goal…" Mitarai clutched his arm, spine dipping. "My friend, he told me that I could change the world with my stories alone, that if I told an honest story people will feel it… he really still believes in me after everything."

"He sounds like a good friend," Makoto said.

"I wanted to apologize," Mitarai said suddenly. "Everything bad that's ever happened to you… it's my fault, Junko is my fault… but especially this… I'm to blame."

Makoto almost reached for him, he sounded so distressed. 

"I don't think it works like that," he said. "It's good to take responsibility for your part in things, but you aren't to blame for all of it. Tengan used the video, and I chose to watch it."

Mitarai nodded sadly. "Still. I'm sorry I can't help you."

"I'll be alright," Makoto gave a weak smile, that vanished when Mitarai spoke up again.

"I uh… I heard you the other night…" he started wringing his hands again. "I stay up later than the others, and I heard you having a nightmare…"

Makoto made a choked sound and looked at his feet.

"I wanted to see if you were okay and…" Mitarai paused. "I peeked around the door, and I saw you."

Makoto didn't need to ask what Mitarai saw, there could only be one thing judging by his discomfort.

A few nights ago Makoto did have a nightmare, one that startled him awake with no chance of getting back to sleep.

He'd sat in bed for a moment trying to catch his breath.

Mikan slept right next door, while they wanted to give Makoto his privacy they felt it was best he still slept in the infirmary and close to someone who could help if he had another spell. 

So Makoto tried to be quiet as he got out of bed, and pushed up a corner of the mattress. He reached inside a small slit cut into the mattress, and pulled out a jagged shard of glass. 

He'd slipped it into his pocket after a luck mishap that involved Mikan's clumsiness and Nagito carrying a stack of glasses to the kitchen. 

He got back into bed and held the shard in his hand. He stayed like that awhile before shaking his head and putting it back, and trying to go back to sleep.

"I was going to tell Mikan," Mitarai said nervously. "But… I've already caused trouble for you, I thought maybe… I should just ask you if I can help."

Makoto took a deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth.

"Thanks," he said.

"..." Mitarai let him cop out. "If you ever want to talk… I mean I'm not very good with people but…"

"Yeah, that'd be cool." Makoto smiled. "Thanks."

"You'll be okay?" Mitarai asked.

"I… I hope so," Makoto joked weakly.

  
  


"You're almost back at a healthy weight, and your injuries have fully healed." Mikan was beaming, and Makoto couldn't help but smile at how happy she got about patient recovery. "Um, if there's anything else you'd like me to take a look at though…"

"I feel a lot better, Mikan, thank you," Makoto said, pulling on his jacket. 

"O-of course." Her smile grew wider. She was about to say something else when suddenly the building shook. 

"What was that?" Makoto stood and ran to the door.

"I don't know…" Mikan followed nervously. "Should we go see?"

"Yeah… let's see if we can find someone…"

They ran to the main hall, where several people had already gathered.

"Did you guys hear that?" Ibuki shouted. "Boom!"

"Is everyone okay?" Nagito asked. 

"Where is Kazuichi?" Gundham asked

"Shit, last I saw him he was headed to work on the generator," Fuyuhiko said. "That's where that shaking came from, I'm pretty sure."

"Who else is missing?"

"Everyone stand still so I can do a head count!"

"Shouldn't we evacuate?"

"We're missing three people, including Kazuichi!"

"I think Munakata is gone!"

Makoto realized it before Nagito did, and as if in slow motion he watched as Nagito carefully looked at the people around him mouthing their names until it hit and his eyes went wide.

"Where's Hajime?"

"We should evacuate first and foremost!" Sonia shouted. "Everyone, make your way calmly to the exit!"

Nagito met Makoto's gaze, looking frantic.

"Let's find him," Makoto said, and Nagito nodded fearfully.

They ran for the garage, seeing soon enough the source of the sound and shaking. 

The university had a wing dedicated to engineering, and it contained the garage where Kazuichi had been working on his projects.

A good quarter of the building had collapsed.

"No, no, no, no," Nagito muttered, freezing in his tracks for only a second before running for the wreckage.

"Hey! Wait!" Makoto chased after him.

The area was filled with dust and smoke, Makoto pulled his jacket up over his face but his eyes watered.

"In there!" Nagito pointed to a doorway half obstructed. 

Neither of them had enough self preservation to hesitate.

"Hajime?" Nagito called out. "Kazuichi?"

"Munakata?" Makoto shouted. 

They moved deeper into the building, crawling over and under wreckage until suddenly they heard someone else coughing.

Just to the left Munakata lifted a beam, revealing Izuru with one of Kazuichi's arms slung over his shoulder to help him walk.

"What are you idiots doing running into a collapsing building?" Munakata grunted, dropping the beam behind them.

"Yes, that's a new level of recklessness." Izuru glared at Nagito, who looked thrilled and relieved.

"Can we scold them after we get out?" Kazuichi shouted. "The generator blew and this building is old as shit, it'll all be coming down soon."

As if to confirm his suspicions, the building creaked and shook, sending a shower of dust down onto them.

"Let's go," Munakata said.

They made their way back to the exit, miraculously making it out safe and sound.

"Thank God," Kazuichi sighed. "Let's get out of here before-"

Suddenly Makoto felt the ground beneath him shake, and the world seemed to move in slow motion as the ceiling above him and the floor beneath him gave out together.

He felt his feet dangling in the air for one sickening moment before a pale hand wrapped around his wrist.

Nagito pulled Makoto back up, feet slipping on the crumbling floor. He managed to get Makoto out of danger just as the floor opened beneath him and he fell.

The ceiling fell soon after, and where there had been a room there was now a mountain of rubble.

Makoto stared in horror, unable to stand up. The others were likewise frozen, until Izuru and Hajime both took shaking and uncooperative steps forward, passing Kazuichi off to Munakata.

"Bad luck," one of them said, "that was bad luck, good luck comes next. It's the cycle."

He started pulling away chunks of rubble. Munakata made a pained sound and turned away.

The building shook again.

"We have to go," Munakata said. "... Hajime. We  _ have to go _ ." 

Hajime nodded shakily, standing and backing up.

They evacuated out to where everyone else was standing, the rest of the building seemed unaffected, but the engineering wing was still falling to bits. Hajime watched gravely, clenched his fist and looked away.

Kazuichi looked around, and in a shaky voice asked: "uh… where's Makoto?"

Makoto was standing in a building falling apart, staring at the space where Nagito disappeared saving him.

He clasped a hand over his mouth, tears forming in his eyes. He could feel that same feeling buzzing in the back of his brain, total despair.

Before it could even reach him, he'd decided to stay exactly where he was.

  
  


Makoto woke in darkness and pain, the only light came from a gap in the ceiling. 

It was just his luck, Makoto thought, that the light was cast on a large chunk of concrete with several rusted pipes sticking dangerously out of it. Another, brutal, chance. 

He pushed himself up into a kneeling position, and stared at the ground. If his partners knew what he'd just done, they would have had more than a few strong words for him.

He missed them. He missed everyone.

He heard footsteps in the dark, shuffling forward. Somehow he was unsurprised when he saw Sayaka's ghost returning to haunt him.

She stepped out of the shadows, dripping blood, and getting closer.

"..." he bent in half, holding himself around the waist as a few silent tears fell from his eyes. "I wish we'd had more time together."

Sayaka stopped.

"I wanted to talk to you more. I thought maybe if we got out, we could start again as friends. You were nice to me, and then you were scared, and you did bad things but… I just miss you."

He looked up, and gasped.

The blood was gone, her eyes had life. 

Sayaka looked down at Makoto, looking surprised, a hand curled by her chin.

"I have so many half memories about you, about everyone!" He said. "Junko took all those years of being friends away from us, and then I got to know you all over again and lost you so fast."

He stood up, gasping in pain and clutching at his arm.

He walked forward, mostly dragging one leg along with him. They were all standing on either side of him, his dead classmates watching him grow closer to the light.

"I lost you, I almost lost Kyoko," he said, voice shaking with tears. "I lost my parents, everyday I know that soon I'll lose my sister." He steadied himself "I ran away before I could lose anyone else and then Hajime and the others let me in… now I lost Nagito, Hajime lost him, everyone lost him, when does any of it stop?"

He slowly lined up one of the rusted pipes to his chest, gently brushing the jagged end against his heart.

"Maybe the only way to stop losing people is to…" he shivered, and wrapped his hands around the pipe before leaning back.

He tried to surge forward, but he felt a hand on his shoulder hold him back.

"Wha…?" He turned around, and no one was there.

For a moment.

"Makoto?" Nagito shouted, squeezing through a crack in the rubble. His face and clothes were dirty, and he looked scared, but otherwise unharmed.

"Please… I get it, okay?" Makoto said, squeezing his eyes shut around tears. "I don't want to see anymore."

"Makoto, I'm really here," Nagito said, taking a hesitant step forward. "Don't move, okay?"

"I'm tired…" Makoto muttered. "I don't want to lose everyone, I don't know what I'd do alone."

"I'm right here," Nagito said with a careful smile. "Would you really hallucinate someone so painful to look at?"

"W… what?" Makoto was thrown by the sudden self deprecating humor, but he kept himself firmly in place.

"I get it," Nagito said. "It's easier, right? Tying it all back to you. When bad things happen, and you can't find a reason, you want to make it make sense. If the only choices are to blame yourself or no one at all, then you search for the meaning everywhere." Nagito closed a fist tight in front of himself and grimaced. "Despair makes hope, right? You tell yourself over and over, bad things have to happen to make good things. And if you can't see any good things, if you lose hope, and fall to despair, you'll do  _ anything _ to bring that hope back. You'd even die."

Makoto tightened his grip, and frowned.

"But that's not how it works!" Nagito said desperately, inching forward. "Good and bad things just happen and most of the time you can't change it! Hope isn't a cure all for the bad, it's not an outcome of the bad, it's just a promise to yourself to see things through. Build a future wherever you land."

"I'll lose everyone…" Makoto said.

"You don't know that," Nagito said. "But right now, they're about to lose you."

Makoto hesitated, and Nagito took another step forward.

"Look, I'm really not used to being the voice of reason," he laughed nervously. "But I believe in you, you're the Ultimate Hope, and you're my friend, right? Maybe that's too presumptuous of me…"

“Of course you’re my friend, Nagito!” Makoto said, almost fed up, but letting go of the pipe and turning to say it. Nagito smirked and grabbed Makoto by the jacket, yanking him away from his would be weapon. 

Makoto toppled forward against Nagito with an ‘oof.’

“See? Real solid person.” Nagito waved and grinned. Makoto blinked in surprise, and then with a choked sob hid his face against Nagito’s chest. Nagito looked a bit surprised and unsure, and awkwardly put his arms around Makoto.

Makoto cried for a bit, clinging to Nagito, before finally he caught his breath. Until finally he felt like he’d cried the tears he’d been holding off on for so long now, ever since the first death. 

“We should go, our luck won’t last forever,” Nagito said, as Makoto pulled away. “In fact, surviving a building collapse and saving your life not once but twice? The bad luck to come from this will be monumental... “ Nagito shivered, and Makoto couldn’t tell if he was worried or excited. 

Makoto clutched his arm and hesitated, so Nagito put a hand on his shoulder. 

“There’s people worrying about us,” he said. “It’s something you get used to, or so I hear. You want to go home, right?”

“... yeah,” Makoto said. “I have to go be with the people I care about.”

  
  


Nagito helped Makoto to the surface, where they both collapsed and tried to catch their breath from the climb. They’d managed to come out about halfway up the mass of ruin that used to be a building, on a shelf of shattered floor. Below, they could see some of the others still searching.

“Hey!” Nagito shouted to get their attention, and there was some commotion as the search party members caught sight of him. 

Nagito watched with a fond grin as Hajime caught sight of him, and with Izuru’s help navigated the precarious rubble like an expert gymnast. 

Before Nagito could so much as wave, Hajime tackled him. Even if Nagito didn’t have a more sickly and thin physique he would have been bowled over by Hajime’s hug. 

“You were really worried? I thought you had more faith in me,” Nagito said between giggles. 

“I have absolutely no faith in you, asshole, Hajime huffed, kissing him. “You’re not allowed to die anymore.”

“Hey! Lovebirds! Wanna get the fuck down from there?” Fuyuhiko shouted from the ground. 

Makoto watched as Hajime gave Nagito one last kiss, and pressed their foreheads together like he was worried that if he stopped touching him Nagito would disappear. His eyes looked swollen from tears, with more forming in the corners of his eyes. 

Makoto was grateful no one had to grieve that day, save maybe Kazuichi for his workspace. Still, watching the other two made his heart ache, and remember what Nagito had told him before they’d made their escape. 

What were Kyoko and Byakuya doing right now? Were they waiting for him? What about Komaru? Had he scared her disappearing? Toko, Hina, Yasuhiro, was everyone at home shedding tears for his sake?

Hajime helped them both down, and Mikan ran to Makoto as soon as she saw him so much as wince. She admonished him while he laughed sheepishly, and watched Hajime once again wrap Nagito in a hug from behind.

“It’s kinda hard to walk like this,” Nagito said to him with an annoyed sigh. “Are you still worried?”

“You’re such a bastard, and I hate you,” Hajime growled, pressing a quick kiss into Nagito’s hair and tightening his hug.

“Such a softie,” Nagito sighed again, more fondly this time, putting his hands over Hajime’s. 

  
  


"So, we managed to convince people that the collapse was part of a scheduled demolition," Hajime addressed the room. "Unfortunately, this doesn't change the fact that there's eyes on this location now. We have to move."

There was a chorus of disappointed protests, and Hajime waited for them to quiet.

"Yeah, I know," he said. "But we'll find somewhere else. The boat's a bit high profile lately, so Kazuichi is gonna fix up some more of those vans, and we'll keep moving."

There was further complaining, so Munakata tsked and stepped up to Hajime's side.

"Enough whining. There's hundreds of places like this, we'll find another. You're ultimates, act like it. You can tackle difficult situations easier than your average person. We'll be fine."

The protests turned to a mild grumbling, and the crowd dispersed to pack and say goodbye to their new home.

Hajime found Makoto as the crowd thinned, and walked over to him.

"So, not to pressure you but this is kind of the moment of truth," he said. "You can come with us, no one will ask about your past, you can start a new future. Or, we can set you up with what you need to go home."

Makoto thought about his time with Hajime and the others, how he’d been given the space he needed to finally grieve all the people he’d lost and heal from the damage of keeping it all inside. He’d grown fond of the strange family Hajime Hinata was running here, and a part of him could see a life traveling with them to fight despair and build hope. 

"I'll miss you guys a lot," Makoto sighed, and Hajime smiled.

"Yeah, give them my best, okay?"

  
  


The vans were all ready to go, and Makoto had a backpack filled with supplies and parting gifts. 

"Come find us sometime, okay little dude?" Ibuki said, pulling Makoto into a bone crushing hug.

"Pace yourself out there!" Nekomaru patted his head. "It's not a race, take your time."

"Try not to let anymore buildings fall on you," Kazuichi lifted a hand from his crutch to shoot Makoto a finger gun.

The others all similarly said their goodbyes, even Munakata and Mitarai with their varying degrees of strained emotion, until it was just Hajime and Nagito.

"Such a hope filled ending," Nagito sighed happily. "Exactly what I'd expect from you. I still wish we could have talked more."

"Nagito, stop drooling. Hajime rolled his eyes. "Be safe out there, and…" he paused for a moment like he was listening. "Izuru says you should… that's kinda the pot calling the kettle blac-"

Izuru asserted himself with a sigh and looked at Makoto with a solid glare. He pointed at him

"Go. to. therapy." 

When the vans drove off Makoto waved a farewell after them. Then he turned the other direction and took a deep anxious breath before he started walking. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugggghhh writing Makoto and Hajime/game 2's cast is such a fun concept and I feel like I didn't get enough out of it I'm gonna have to write more of them sometime, maybe go into Makoto's time here in deeper detail later, or the situation from Hajime/Nagito's pov, would that be a cool bonus chapter?


	5. The Hero's Journey

While Makoto was headed home, Kyoko and Byakuya were following his trail. They'd started minutes after Hajime's call.

"We'll take care of him, promise," Hajime said. 

"And we'll entrust him to you," Kyoko said, hanging up.

"We're going to go find him, right?" Byakuya asked.

"Of course." Kyoko closed the laptop. "He's not well. If this were under any other circumstances I'd respect his choice and Hajime's principles, but right now he needs us."

"Perfect." Byakuya smirked. "I've already told them to bring the car around."

The world after the Tragedy was a work in progress.

There was rebuilding, looting, government aide, dictatorships, some places were overrun with people in Monokuma masks still intent on destroying whatever they saw and other places were setting up solar panels and returning to a new normal.

Kyoko and Byakuya saw a lot of this as they followed Makoto's trail. Right now they'd stopped for the night just outside a ghost town that Kyoko had deemed too dangerous to stay in.

"They use the emptiness to lure you into a false sense of security, and then rob you when night falls," she said, tapping away at her phone.

Byakuya normally wasn't one for piloting his own vehicle, but they'd both agreed that the fewer people involved in this investigation the better. He turned off the car and then joined Kyoko in the back. He leaned over her shoulder to see what she was looking at, which turned out to be cold case files.

"You should find less depressing reading material," he commented.

"Hm." She tossed her phone aside and leaned against him, pulling her legs up onto the seat. "We're getting close."

"What do we plan to do once we find him?"

"Well you and I always handled the finding and acquiring, he always handled the moving speeches and heart to hearts."

"I suppose that's the problem with having an ultimate talent, you never bother to learn any other."

"And we're not the most sociable type," Kyoko added. "Makoto once told me about a party he'd gone to, and seemed alarmed when I told him I'd never been to one because I spent my childhood honing my talent."

"Being an ultimate doesn't exactly leave time for learning social skills," Byakuya admitted with a grimace. "Well, we'll figure it out when we find him. For now, we should rest."

`

"This… does not look good." 

Kyoko was standing in front of a collapsed building, just the kind of trouble she'd expect Makoto to get himself caught up in. She narrowed her eyes at a flash of green in the rubble and picked up the scrap of fabric.

No, not from Makoto's jacket. She surmised it was another tear in the worn coat that other lucky student insisted on wearing until it dissolved into dust. Hopefully, he was still lucky when this disaster occurred.

It felt strange walking the halls of the decrepit building. She'd tracked people before, but always criminals or estranged fathers or cheating spouses back in her earlier days. It had always just been one clue, one lead, one after the other guiding her to the target.

This time she felt awash in the ghosts of Makoto's recent past. Did he sleep here? Did he talk to his friends there? Did he touch this wall, sit in this chair?

"Looks like a large amount of vehicles went that way," she mused, examining the tire tracks and drops of oil. 

"So they left. Did he go with them?" Byakuya asked.

"I don't know." Kyoko stood and tucked her hair behind her ear. "There's too many footprints around here, they're all muddled. All I know for sure is that if he went his own way he didn't take a vehicle."

"Then he'll be moving slow enough to find."

"That's if he's not with them."

"He's headed home," Byakuya said, staring back the way they’d come.

“What brought you to that conclusion?”

“Call it… gut instinct?” Byakuya shrugged. “Somehow, I don’t think he’s still running away.”

Kyoko sighed, and tried to think. There was very little room in detective work for instinct, but it had its place. 

“So, then we go back?” she asked hesitantly. 

“I don’t know…” Byakuya sighed. “I want to trust him, but I also want to control this situation. It’s the same for you, right? Though it’s annoying we came all this way for nothing.”

“Well, not for nothing.” Kyoko reached into her jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

“What’s that?”

“Just something I found in one of the rooms.” she passed it over to Byakuya. 

He unfolded it and smiled. It was a drawing, undeniably Mitarai’s work, of Makoto sitting between Nagito and Hajime, all three of them laughing. 

  
  


Makoto paused in front of the door. 

He had his key, but part of him felt like he should knock. 

“No, that’s silly,” he told himself, going ahead and opening the door. 

All the lights were out, and the house was quiet. Makoto turned on a lamp as he passed it, and called out that he was home even though he’d already figured the house was empty. 

It was a little disappointing not to see them, but Makoto knew Kyoko and Byakuya had busy lives. 

He felt strangely out of place in his own home, but once he’d washed off the dust of the road and changed into pajamas he felt more at ease. He sat on the edge of the bed and plugged his phone in to charge. Exhausted from the trip and focused on waiting for his phone to have enough battery to send a message out, he didn’t hear the door when it opened. 

“... Makoto?”

“Huh?” he looked up at the bedroom door. 

Kyoko and Byakuya were standing there, staring at him in shock. They both looked as tired as him, and about as disheveled as they could get which was still pretty put together in most people’s books. 

“You’re home!” he smiled.

“W…  _ we’re _ home? Are you kidding?” Byakuya huffed. “Are you  _ serious _ ?”

“Oh, I’m so-” before Makoto could finish his apology he was wrapped in a hug from either side. He sat there a moment, before melting into the embrace. 

“I’m sorry I made you worry!” he hugged them back, tearing up a little. 

“Good!” Byakuya said sternly, earning a light slap on the back of the head from Kyoko.

“We’re glad you’re home,” she said. “We looked for you, but you excelled at not being found.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Stop apologizing,” Byakuya said. “Just tell us you’re home now, and aren’t about to go vanishing again.”

Makoto smiled as they pulled away. Both of them couldn’t stop setting their hands on his shoulders or cupping his face, fixing his hair, whatever little touches kept them in contact with him. It was making him feel warm and loved.

“Yeah, I’m home,” he said. 

  
  


Makoto woke up gasping for air, and would have bolted upright if not for the arms clamped protectively around him. The words from his nightmare still rang in his ears. 

_ Why did you leave us? Shouldn’t you be here with us? _

He muffled a cry by biting down on his hand, and for a moment his vision swam and his head felt chaotic. 

Then he took a deep breath, and woke his partners with a few gentle shakes. 

“Nn… Makoto?” Kyoko yawned, and Byakuya just sat upwards looking barely aware. Makoto felt a bit guilty waking them, but as soon as they saw the look on his face they were wide awake. 

“Hey,” Kyoko drew closer. “We’re here.”

“Talk to us,” Byakuya agreed.

“... we lost a lot of people, right?” Makoto said. “We never talk about it, we just try to forget… I almost lost you, Kyoko, and we never talk about it…”

Kyoko frowned, and leaned into Makoto’s hand as he reached out to cup her cheek. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

“Yeah, I do,” he said. “Not tonight… just sometime, okay?”

Makoto felt Byakuya’s weight on his back as he draped himself over Makoto’s shoulders. Kyoko drew closer to him too, until Makoto was held from both sides. 

“Can we do anything tonight to help?” Byakuya asked.

“Hm… this helps plenty.” Makoto beamed, and then yawned. Before he knew it, he was dozing off in his partners’ arms, and they were chuckling fondly as they guided him back down to his pillow. 

Kyoko lay her head on his chest, and Byakuya lay with his forehead pressed to Makoto’s cheek. The three of them felt a rare safety laying there together, holding on to what mattered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please drop a comment if you liked!  
> (also would anyone be interested in the section with the remnants from Nagito's pov? Been considering writing it)


End file.
